The Turn of the Lock
by cryptically
Summary: JadeTear. Jade Curtiss is an unsolvable puzzle. Tear Grants is a solider to the core. But when she starts to figure him out and he starts falling for her, will he really be able to let her in past all of his masks and games, even if it means losing her?
1. Prelude

**Author's Note**: Hey! This is my first stab at a Tales of the Abyss fanfic, and instead of doing the sensible thing and one-shotting it until I got a good grasp of the characters, I'm jumping into a multi-chapter romance right off the bat.

Yup, an epic romance! Comedic, naturally, and Jade/Tear to be exact though I'm probably going to call it Jear just because it sounds funnier that way. Shockingly enough, they're two of my favorite characters and I want to prove to you, reader, that it is not completely irrational to think that they make a great pair. Or, if you're already a Jear lover (woo!), I want to provide you with my version of how these two fall for each other and make you squee at them along the way.

Getting down to the responsible part of the note, the story's actually going to be canon (mostly-ish) though I'll add in some missing scenes. There's a reason for the title being what it is, which you'll have a hint for in the next chapter (yay) and, last but not least, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

Let me know what you think!

-cy.

* * *

The seats were plush and velvet, the sort of fabric she felt as a child would crumble under her fingertips if she touched it too much. The curtains that hung by the windows of the coach seemed to radiate luxury almost as much as they blocked out the light streaming in from the plains. She sneaked a touch, knowing rationally that she wasn't breaking any rules but feeling like she was anyway. They were soft and elegant, their folds full of the soft darkness of almost falling asleep. This was the most expensive purchase she had made in her entire life and the boy sitting next to her wasn't paying the slightest attention to it.

"Seriously, are we there yet? This is better than fighting monsters, but it's starting to get boring." He sighed and sunk back into the seat, ruffling his mane of long, red hair. "Ugh."

"I'm sorry." Tear apologized, trying not to think about the price she'd paid for this trip. "We'll be at the capital soon."

"Yeah, but how many hours more is 'soon?'" Luke vented, mushing himself deeper into the exquisite seat. "If I have to see much more of this farmland I'm going to be dead of boredom before I make it back home."

Tear doubted very much that this would be the case, though she didn't say it. She felt like a good chunk of the responsibility for the noble's being stranded out here rested upon her, namely her failure to quickly dispatch Van at the manor.

Van...

He must have escaped, she realized, and she'd have to go through the trouble of finding him all over again. The thought made her even more tired than she had been. Between fighting the monsters, the energy that had been expended in the hyperresonance, and the day of travel she'd gone through from Aramis Spring to the Duke's house in Baticul, not to mention the Yulia Road, she was exhausted. They'd napped a bit in the coach and, extravagant though it was, she hadn't been able to sleep much from all its bouncing on the rough roads. Now, the idea that she had to find Van, who would know of her intentions and would be better prepared, all over again- even after the boy was returned to his manor- was overwhelming.

She promised herself that she would rest a whole day at whatever inn in the capital she could afford, but she couldn't afford to rest too long. Time would be of the essence if she were to complete her mission. Had she not taken an unexpected ride out to a remote valley with an even more unexpected companion-

"Woah! What's that?"

The coach swerved to the right sharply, sending Tear leaning but slamming Luke into the coach wall in single, rumbling motion. The teacups on the table before them shuddered and shivered their way off the edges, staining the perfect, moss-soft carpet shades of dull brown. The coachman uttered a loud oath and his steeds wickered and bayed nervously as the ground rumbled beneath them.

"What the hell was that!" Luke shouted up to the coachman. "I didn't mean that I was gonna die of boredom right _now_! Jeez."

"I swear on Yulia and the Score, it wasn't me! I had to move because of those thieves and the military chasing them!"

"_What_?" Luke spluttered. "Military?"

"Just look!" The coachman pointed dramatically, offering the scene itself as a better way of explanation, and Luke looked.

Tear saw it first. It was a sleek medley of chrome and silver, trimmed with gold along its sides and gunwales, racing evenly and with a deadly elegance across the flat land toward a renegade coach. She noticed that, despite being outclassed in just about every way, the rogue coach was igniting small, red bursts of light at its back and aiming them at its pursuer. She'd heard of these landships, discussed them in briefings at Oracle Headquarters, but actually seeing one up close...

She must have gasped (which she later reprimanded herself for, since one country's soldier shouldn't admire or bawk at another military's equipment) because the coachman smiled and nodded importantly. "That's the Malkuth Army's newest dreadnought, fresh out of Sheridan. They're calling it the Tartarus, which is really pretty fitting when you realize who's commanding it."

He looked expectantly at the both of them, as though hoping they would pick up on some private joke, but was disappointed when they didn't.

Instead, Tear felt a cold fear prickle itself up her spine but said nothing. She was just wondering how she ought to phrase it to avoid-

"Wait, you said it was a Malkuth ship? What's it doing in Kimlasca?"

Tear grimaced. Too late. Luke had voiced her concerns for her.

The coachman eyed her companion strangely in response. "It's Malkuth's craft, yes. But it's not unusual for them to practice here at all, though right now with those Dark Wings it's become more business than troop exercise. The West Rugnica Plains are perfect training grounds-"

"The West Rugnica Plains!" Tear exclaimed, shocked herself. She hadn't recognized the area before, but now knowing where they were everything made perfect sense...although that meant that they were headed for-

"But you said you're going to the capital!" Luke interjected. "How the hell are you gonna get to Baticul going through Malkuth?"

"Luke!" Why did he had to be so up front about everything? Hadn't anyone taught him the importance of keeping a secret? Tear pondered, awaiting the worst.

"Baticul?" The coachman seemed confused. "No, we're bound for the capital of the Malkuth Empire, Grand Chokmah."

-o-

His fingers traced the metalwork on the railings of the bridge delicately, as though forming a first acquaintance.

The ship was both a marvel and a masterpiece, something that he'd dreamed up and then forgotten for weeks until the Emperor had asked him some innocuous question about the military and he'd responded with a full-length diatribe on the state of their dreadnoughts. No one in the treasury tended to question the Emperor's bursts of spending, provided that they were justified well enough. A proposal for a new breed of warship, something at the top of its class, would pass with ease in this tense political climate. The Emperor's pet project (rather literally) of a rappig shelter and adoption center in Grand Chokmah, would not, however unfortunate that seemed.

Then again, Colonel Jade Curtiss of the Third Division Malkuth Imperial Forces admitted, the proposal for the Tartarus had been one of his more spectacular plans. He couldn't take credit for everything, not by far: the engine room had been a particularly messy spot which he'd been forced to leave to the engineers to puzzle out, as had been the artillery turrets and most of the propulsion system. He had provided the ideas, the base skeleton of inspiration which the master craftsmen of Sheridan had worked around and brought into being from the rough sketches of its bones.

Still, it was a thrill getting to feel the fonic glyphs he'd thought out actually scribed along the bridge, let alone the rumble of the engines below as they started. As a rule, he tended to stay away from fontech and its passionate aficionados, but he confessed himself guilty of some slight admiration from time to time.

"Commander! We're within firing range of the Dark Wings coach. Shall we open a barrage?"

He inspected the plains. "Not just yet. Wait for the other coach to remove itself first. We don't want to involve any more people in this than we already have."

His glasses glinted in the indigo glow from the consoles as he turned to face the young boy with green hair in a long, white tunic who pulled on his sleeve.

"Please, Jade, do you have to do this? I want to avoid anyone getting hurt if it can be helped." The boy said, his words coming out strong despite his frail and child-like stature. A girl in a pink outfit from the Oracle Knights sighed next to him and shook her head.

"Oh, Ion, sometimes you're so hopeless. We need to get to Baticul fast, right? If we rush to chase them, it's gonna get us across the bridge and to the king that much faster!"

"Anise," Jade countered, his face a mask of polite amusement, "I thought that was our little secret. We don't want everyone aboard to know about it, do we?"

The girl pouted and said something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "boo."

With the air of the willfully deaf, the Colonel continued. "Fon Master, I will gladly respect your wishes. But please, do retire to your cabin for the time being. If we are forced to enter into battle, you will be infinitely better protected there than on the bridge. I'll send an officer to alert you when the danger's passed."

The boy and the girl departed with a small clatter down the stairs and deeper into the ship.

Jade breathed a small sigh of relief. Who knew that it would be such an ordeal to transport one Fon Master and his guardian across the border to negotiate peace talks? "Kidnapping" at Daath, avoiding Oracle Knights at every turn, keeping small children entertained on board, discovering contraband, and now bandits...this mission had already proved itself more exciting than he'd imagined it would.

He shrugged at the remaining soldiers. "Well, you heard the order. We avoid use of force until absolutely necessary."

A moment passed and on either side of the Tartarus red flares ignited like warning signs. Jade's heart started to beat a little faster. Even though he would give the order to take the thieves captive and avoid conflict, he would never get over the thrill of the chase. Swathes of prairie and plain flew past him on either side as the dreadnought sailed over the land smoothly, its advanced fonic gyroscopes compensating for each uneven part of the terrain.

"Commander, they're setting up fonon bombs in a row and igniting them with the Fifth Fonon! ...They're planning to take out Rotelro Bridge!"

Jade sighed, smiling ruefully. Predictable, though unfortunate for land traffic for a few months, perhaps more so if their efforts to halt the war were unsuccessful. Peony wouldn't enjoy having another internal repairs project, but it couldn't be helped.

"Ah well. Understood. Too bad for the poor bridge. Tartarus, full stop on my mark. Launch the fonic shields."

"Yes, sir!"

Something was starting. He could feel that, at the very least.

According to his Score, which the Curtiss family had him read on his birthday, something "terrifying and enchanting" was lurking on the edges of his future. Jade was not very religious (though he pretended to be admirably when necessary) and didn't stake much by idle prediction, this was different. He disliked trusting impulses or blind hunches, hated much more putting his faith into anything without a rational cause (and then there was that horrific word itself, "faith") but he felt that he'd been very right to come along in this errand to Baticul on Peony's behalf. And Jade Curtiss was so very often right that it seemed almost an insult to probability to doubt himself now.

-o-

"I told you, I didn't steal that food!"

"He stole an apple from me before-"

"Hey, I paid for that! ...In the end!"

When entering a small farming village at the behest of a Fon Master, one expects some slight interaction with villagers and perhaps an outburst if one is lucky and arrives at a fashionable time. A food shortage in the town that was essentially the Empire's breadbasket was critical enough, but now food thieves too, my...Ion really had chosen an opportune moment.

"Now, now, everyone!" Rose, the village leader stepped forward to meet the siege at her front door. "What seems to be the trouble?"

Jade sipped his tea nonchalantly in the background while the sordid details were hashed out. Boy enters village, "accidentally" steals apple, angers villager. Villager, already upset from food theft, jumps to wild and erratic conclusions. Boy, hotheaded enough to escalate matters, captured by grocers in rare feat of communal strength. Village elder or leader needed to undo mess. End of act one.

On its own, it made perfect sense. The issue of how the noble (for how could he not be noble, and probably Kimlascan from the looks of his clothes, with that attitude?) got into Engeve was a mystery, but one no doubt easily solved. It was the girl with him that complicated matters.

She was dressed as a member of the Order of Lorelei, which was odd in itself because she was certainly not Anise and Ion had promised him in the sincerest terms that no one else in the Order knew of where Jade was taking him or for what purpose. The girl carried herself well, confident in her surroundings, someone who had clearly had experience with towns and people outside of manor servants. Which was more than he could say of the boy.

But it begged the question: if she was experienced and knew of the red head's Kimlascan descent yet still appeared to count him as a friend, or at the very least a traveling companion, then why was she throwing him into the path of a Malkuth soldier? Jade was intrigued.

A few words from the boy-Luke, it seemed - confirmed his noble status. Luke, red hair... yes, Luke fon Fabre, light of the sacred flame, savior of the world according to the Score, stealing apples from the poor. There was an epic poem in that somewhere.

Well, how exciting. But figuring out nobles' identities was child's play. Jade was more interested in the mysterious girl.

"And you are...?" He asked as Rose whisked away his teacup.

"Tear Grants." She met his gaze, showing no sign that his red eyes disturbed her. He'd scared a few residents of Engeve with them and had to remind himself that red was usually a strange color for an iris. Being in Grand Chokmah, where he was known for his fonic arte mastery, had made him forget. She continued. "I apologize for my friend's interference with your meeting."

Jade waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, not at all. It was actually quite enlightening."

Her blue eyes widened for a moment, but then her face was as impassive as it had been before. His smile quirked up at one corner. So she'd picked up on his hint that he knew who her companion was. That was more than he could say for most people he conversed with. He allowed himself a moment of sadness that it would probably be a long time before he came across another person like her and toyed with the idea of pestering the Emperor for access to the Oracle Knight registries they had in the records collection. She could be interesting to investigate later at his leisure.

The enigmatic Tear made her good-byes cordially but quickly, eager to get her idiotic charge away from further trouble. Rose waved them off with a satisfactory smile and proposed that they get back to business and Jade heartily agreed.

Still, though he tried to concentrate on the grievances at hand, his thoughts couldn't help but drift back to wondering what exactly this Oracle Knight errant was up to. Saying that one was "just passing through" almost always meant more secret, developed plans than a traveler's wanderlust, and he got the feeling that Tear Grants was well-versed in subtlety.

Jade smiled to himself. Something was certainly happening and he intended to be in on it.


	2. Locksmith Gavotte

His boots crunched over the forest detritus as he followed them deeper and deeper into the Cheagle Woods. He was astonished that none of them had noticed his presence yet- he hadn't expected the noble to by any means, and a Fon Master had his own guardians (usually) to notice things for him. What really surprised him was the fact that the enigmatic Tear hadn't picked up on his presence. That pointed to a distinct lack of field work, he mused, which in turn meant some internal division of the Oracle Knights, perhaps...

Jade's thought trailed off as he entered the ligars' tree trunk and began the slow descent over trunk roots, dodging the wounded ligars on his way down. What possessed them to attempt to oust a pest of this caliber, he could not fathom. But if the Fon Master fell victim to any unfortunate accident during this outing, the mission to deliver the peace treaty would become much harder, if not impossible.

He watched in the shadow of the hollow as the fight was initiated, noting the noble's sloppy stance and his unpracticed attacks. Unfortunate, but typical of the amateur swordsman. Tear's skill was likewise minimal, confirming his suspicions about field experience, but spoke volumes of better training and dedication.

Better prepared, but nothing particularly special.

That was, until she started to sing.

Jade Curtiss, though his body would never master the Seventh Fonon and he knew it, had learnt to recognize its presence, how it felt as it passed him by untethered. When Tear sang, he heard the whisper of seventh fonons slipping up through the air to swirl around her as she cast her spell and directed it at the ligar queen. They converged around the girl's body, mixing and interchanging with the fonons in her blood like an exquisite waltz, a song unbroken, some hidden secret. He'd taught himself to observe them early on until he'd become expert at it, devoting long hours to make the skill of seeing them his.

But this was different from anything he'd ever seen. The Professor, or any other Seventh Fonist that he'd watched for that matter, had never cast their spells quite like this. The fonic verse had always been an incantation, true, but never had it transcended into song...

And that was when the realization swept over him like a sudden thrill of cold: she was singing a fonic hymn.

He stood as though transfixed, watching as the red-haired boy got pummeled by ferocious swipes of the queen, as the girl again began to sing. They certainly seemed out-matched in just about every way possible, he thought idly. Their dire straits offered him a clear view into their emergency tactics (there appeared to be none other than frantic slashing and casting), although it felt like some trial by fire to just sit still and watch their amateurism.

Ah well. No one's patience could be expected to last forever.

He opened his body's fon slots slowly, unlocking each fonon, first, second, all the way through sixth, as precisely as an athlete stretching each muscle before making his performance. He'd like to end it quickly. After all, it had been quite some time since anyone had intrigued him this much, and he certainly didn't intend for her to die when he had so much more to find out.

And there was Ion to think of as well, he chided himself before stepping into the clearing.

-o-

"Man, all anybody ever wants from me is my title."

Tear glanced up from the fon stones in the lamps. These seemed a little different from what she was used to; their light was warmer. "Do you actually have a title?"

Luke fumed. "Of course! I'm a duke's son, hello?" He laughed. "Half the Kimlascan royal court would probably die if _I_ didn't have a title."

"Well, what is it?" Tear asked, actually curious. "I'm not all that familiar with how duchies award titles to a successor while the predecessor is still living."

"Ugh!" Luke raked his hands through his hair. "Why do you have to make it sound so complicated? I'm a duke's son, okay? That's my title."

Sensing that correcting this was going to get her nowhere, Tear suggested that they take the Colonel up on his offer to explore the dreadnought.

On the bridge, though, the situation was far more businesslike.

"What, no way, Colonel!" Anise stomped her foot on the metal planks of the floor to accentuate her point. "I can't believe you won't just tell them about what we're doing. It would be so much easier that way!"

"Easier, but more dangerous. Besides, I prefer not to take any more people into custody than I have to."

"Aww," the girl smiled up at him, "everyone makes you out to be so tough but you're just a big softie on the inside, aren't you?"

"Not really." Jade replied. "It's just more hassle to move someone from across a country against their will rather than when they go willingly."

Anise's face abruptly fell. "Oh, so you're just lazy."

"Go and prevent your future husband from destroying the ship, will you?"

A few moments after Anise had exited, one of the helmsmen coughed significantly. "Uh, Commander?"

"Yes?"

"Meaning no disrespect, sir, but seeing it'll be a while until we reach the Kaitzur checkpoint and that we have things under control here..."

"Ah." Jade laughed, adjusting his glasses and gracefully acknowledging the oversight. Anise was perhaps less than an appropriate guide for their guests. "I admit my carelessness, Captain. In the mean time, I leave the Tartarus in your capable hands."

-o-

Terrifying and enchanting.

The fon slot seal clicked and circled into place above him, each twisting circle sealing off fon slots he'd staked his life to open, make himself more a catalyst for artes- everything was getting clogged over as the lock turned itself into place. It was like catching a bad headcold on every part of his body, mixed with clammy skin and the feeling of drowning in something viscous, a molasses-like substance that used to be the air. Gravity seemed like it was being reinvented; each breath he took pulled him down harder and harder, until his lungs ached like they were filling up with lead.

Jade wasn't used to functioning on such a paltry amount of fonons, the sudden disconnect was suffocating...

"Even a Fon Master would be trivial to deal with without his fonic artes. A pity your reputation couldn't have afforded you more protection, Necromancer." The Black Lion's deep voice intoned somewhere in the distance. Jade felt it ringing in his ears like bells out of tune, his head throbbing with the discordance.

If this was the terrifying and enchanting thing promised him in that Score, then he was never hearing his read again.

Still, as he pulled himself back up to standing with what seemed all his strength and lunged with his spear at Largo, his arm shuddering as the shaft pressed through the God-General's armor and bit into skin, he couldn't say that he agreed with him.

Jade's smile never faltered, even as Largo's eyes widened in shock.

"Oh, you'll find I'm anything but trivial."

A Necromancer had his reputation to uphold, after all. And no one forced Jade Curtiss to his knees.

-o-

Tear had a feeling that the Colonel wouldn't be asking them to help if he'd had any other choice.

She noticed that he still fought the monsters admirably, though less skillfully than he had with them back in the Cheagle Woods, and agreed to herself that, determined though he was to regain control of his ship, he could not have taken the bridge on his own. A part of her pitied him, but another part was curious that he'd admit it. Surely that must have cost him something to say. But then again, he'd easily knelt when Luke had requested it...

Whoever he was, Jade had a different concept of pride than most people she met, Tear concluded as she passed through the door to the upper part of the bridge with him.

Below, she could hear the voices of several Oracle Knights in charge of steering the dreadnought. Her eyes flicked over to judge his expression, but again she was surprised: his countenance didn't betray any hints of malice or outrage at seeing the enemy in control of his ship; no, from his pleasant smile, she'd be more inclined to think that nothing more exciting had happened to him than chasing down those bandits, rather than the craft he was in command of getting stolen from him.

"You seem like there's something you want to ask." He commented softly, lest the men below hear them.

Tear looked away quickly. "It's nothing."

"No, really, if we're to go into battle soon together, I insist."

How could she ask him about his pride? How he'd still kept a cool head, to her amazement, after everything had turned against him? Or what had happened to him to make him say that his pride wasn't so cheap as to be bothered by things like Luke, or the ship being taken? All of that was...much too personal.

So, Tear opted for a more general topic. "How long will it take to get the seal off?"

She saw the Colonel's lip quirk into a pleasantly amused smile. "I should still be capable in combat, at least more than enough to keep with you, if that's what you're asking." He paused, considering it seriously. "I would imagine some months. It's like a lock whose combinations keep changing."

Tear looked down at the knights below them and sighed to herself. "The seal or you?"

"Both," Jade shot back, examining their targets' positions and readying himself to jump down for their ambush, "though I doubt anyone other than myself would be capable of solving them. Now," he said, returning to the matter at hand with an ease of manner that disconcerted Tear, "if you'll sing your hymn, I'll attend to the Tartarus' controls."

Tear wasn't sure what to make of him and had a feeling that she wouldn't for a long time still. So, she did the only thing she could and sang. 


End file.
